


Need Your Loving Tonight (in Montreal)

by thebrightestbird



Series: Montreal [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: A lot of sexual discussion, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Blow Jobs, Discussions of sexuality, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Fun and healthy talk though, Getting Together, M/M, Sexual exploration, Strong Language, thoroughly resolved sexual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-01-29 19:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21415498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebrightestbird/pseuds/thebrightestbird
Summary: “John looked the same as he always does, darling.”“No,” Brian insists, “no, he lookedreallygood last night.”Brian and John spend a night together during their tour stop in Montreal. Freddie and Roger hearallabout it.
Relationships: John Deacon/Brian May
Series: Montreal [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1581277
Comments: 90
Kudos: 165
Collections: Breaky Week





	1. Good Company

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Gin Cares](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17825741) by [FatalSmiles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatalSmiles/pseuds/FatalSmiles). 

> ETA: This fic has some inspiration from [Gin Cares by FatalSmiles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17825741). I didn't realize this until after the fact and I want to give proper kudos. It's a great Breaky fic.  
||  
Written for the Breaky Week prompt for Rock Montreal, which is for Sunday, but this 10,000-word thing took over my brain and is my only offering for the week. I'll post a chapter a day up to Sunday, when all five chapters will be available.
> 
> Also, this is more explicit than my previous Queen fics, so I want to warn up front for that. Rating applies to chapters 3 and 4.
> 
> And thanks in advance for reading. Hope you like it :)

“You got Fred?” John asks.

Brian gives a slow nod in answer and bites his bottom lip. His eyes are conveying a mixture of emotions and thoughts ...

… That John just can’t face right now. “Okay, good. I can handle Rog.”

Neither know exactly how to part after the night they’ve had, but John’s the first to force himself to turn around without another word and escape down the hallway.

Brian watches him until he turns a corner, contemplating the metaphor the direction embodies for the two of them.

||

Brian approaches Freddie’s room at the same time as a large housekeeping crew. The apparent lead cleaning lady gives only one knock as warning before barging right in. Brian shrugs and follows.

A couple of stragglers from the evening’s activities comically fall from a loveseat to the floor after being awoken by the intrusion. One of the ladies takes the opportunity to reposition the newly available piece of furniture and spray it down.

The boys grab whatever clothing they can find on the floor and slip everything on quickly yet seductively, trying to impress Brian with exaggerated stretches and coy looks.

“It’s a shame you missed the party, baby,” one of them says.

“Yeah, you missed out on a great time,” the other adds.

Brian considers just blowing off the comments and wishing them a good day, but he’s feeling cocky. “Sorry, boys. Was having a fine time somewhere else, you’ll be happy to hear.”

They give him playful pouts before finally leaving.

Brian turns his attention to the condition of the suite, which is absolutely wrecked. Nothing compared to the _Jazz_ parties, of course.

He looks for any sign of Freddie amid the cleaning chaos. One of the ladies finds him first, however, as she strips the duvet off the bed revealing a very naked lead singer.

Surprisingly, the cleaning lady doesn’t shriek but instead grabs for the top sheet — single-minded in her mission to clean, apparently. Freddie grabs for it at the same time, and the weirdest game of tug of war is witnessed by Brian before the woman acquiesces and moves on to collect the assorted bottles and debris from the floor.

Smug with his victory, Freddie covers himself back up and buries his face in a pillow.

“Freddie, get up.”

No response.

“Freddie, it’s almost 10.”

Still nothing.

“We need to get ready to do some press before the second show tonight.”

“You and your gang of housekeeping hooligans can fuck off,” Freddie insists, muffled by the pillow.

“We can have brunch beforehand,” Brian offers.

Brian can hear a forceful “pfft” blown into the pillow. “Tempting,” still muffled, “but there is nothing you can say that will get me out of this bed before noon.”

“Deacy and I shagged.”

A long moment of silence follows the statement, and if Brian didn’t know better, he’d be convinced Freddie had fallen back asleep. But then a very wide eye slowly reveals itself from the pillow. Freddie flops onto his back and forces himself upright. Keeping the sheet around his waist, he swings his legs over the side of the bed.

A look of absolute astonishment haunts his face.

It makes Brian antsy. He bounces on the balls of his feet while waiting for Freddie to sort his thoughts on his revelation.

Freddie presses his lips together and pops them apart as he works up the beginnings of a sentence. “Well,” he starts promisingly, “on second thought, I’m feeling quite peckish.”

As soon as Freddie gets out of bed, the cleaning lady takes the opportunity to successfully pull the sheet from him.

Freddie gasps and turns around to face the thief, then realizes he’s naked and covers himself the best he can with his hands. The woman pays him no mind, however, and completely strips the bed now that it’s vacated.

“Uh, darling,” Freddie calls to Brian, “could you fetch my kimono?”

Brian doesn’t bother hiding his amusement as he hands the piece of clothing to the very flustered Freddie.

“_Ahem_,” Freddie clears his throat, “and remind me to give the cleaning staff a sizable bonus when we leave.”

“Of course, Fred. We always do.”

||

John caught Roger showing three women out his suite door, patented charming smile unwavering as he gave varying levels of affection to each: a caress, a hug, a kiss, and a parting naughty innuendo to all as they held their high heels and padded barefoot down the hall to the lifts, tittering along the way.

He barged through the door as Roger was closing it and demanded he grab the closest pair of sunglasses and a coat because they were going out to eat.

So, here they are at a nice enough bistro, John halfway through a fresh pack of smokes, and it’s not even noon yet.

Roger notices, of course. “What’s got your knickers in a knot?”

Despite being the one to drag Roger here for a chat, John contemplates not saying anything. For heaven’s sake, if they talked about every time they all got laid, they’d never talk about anything else. This time was different though. This was … special.

“I fucked Brian.”

Roger chokes on his water.

Oh, shit, he’s coughing hard. John stubs out his cigarette and gets up to hit his friend on the back.

Roger wheezes a “What the fuck, Deacs?!” and “Piss off!” so he can cough without John making things worse.

John asks the waiter for another water and a new napkin and figures it’s best to just let Roger work it out. He lights another cigarette and waits.

Roger snatches it when he’s stable and takes an impressive drag for someone who was barely breathing a minute ago. “First off,” he starts when he’s finally regained full composure, “fuck you, Deacy.”

John just rolls his eyes at the petulance.

“Second off,” Roger pauses to assess the best way he can address this unfathomable revelation, “uh, how?!”

John looks down at the checkered tablecloth, finding it fascinating suddenly. “Just happened,” he mumbles. “Last night.”

Roger screws his face up in disbelief. “Getting caught in the rain ‘just happens.’ Forgetting your wallet ‘just happens.’ Freddie beating me in Scrabble ‘just happens.’ ” He catches his breath. “You and Brian May pausing your squabbling long enough to fuck doesn’t ‘just happen.’ ”

John side-eyes him. “Did you have to use air quotes every time you said ‘just happens’?” He mimics Roger’s condescending quotes.

“Yes, John. Yes, I did. Because 'just happened' was your bollocks answer to how you and Brian found yourselves in bed together after we’ve been playing together in a band for _ten bloody years._” Roger finishes the cigarette and blows the smoke right in John’s face to punctuate his point. “I’m going to need more than that.”

John squints in irritation, both at the smoke and his friend’s words. “Fine, yeah. Where to even start …”

||

“He looked good.”

Freddie and Brian are sat at a tucked-away table at the top-floor restaurant of their hotel. The grand view of Montreal is wasted on them, however, because Freddie is going to squeeze every last detail about last night out of his friend.

“John looked the same as he always does, darling.”

“No,” Brian insists, “no, he looked _really_ good last night.”

Freddie thinks back at the concert. “He was wearing the all-blue number, right?”

Brian nods.

“I suppose blue is his best color out of all the primary colors he’s been partial to wearing lately.” Freddie ponders hard. “I’m sorry, darling, I’m having trouble seeing it. It’s Deacy! He’s like a baby brother.”

“I know! It was the same for me until last night.” Brian swallows his beer and winces. “He was the goofy, annoying brother I never had.”

Freddie’s still picturing John from last night. “His jeans _were_ particularly tight,” he concedes.

Brian nods energetically in agreement. “And when he started off the show in the jacket …” He trails off with what could be considered a dreamy sigh.

“And he’s been growing his hair out again, I’ve noticed,” Freddie offers. “It’s got such lovely, natural waves.”

“I miss his long hair,” Brian pouts and finishes the beer.

Freddie huffs in amusement over Brian’s sudden bout of lovesickness. “He’s not you, Brian. He couldn’t very well keep that look forever.” He takes a drag from his cigarette. “Deacy had to grow up some time. He is 30, after all.”

Brian picks at his cuticles the way he does when he’s shy or embarrassed. “He seems to get better with age.”

“Like a fine wine?” Freddie teases.

Brian shakes his head, still looking at his fingernails. “Like a friendship.” He looks up at Freddie. “Or any kind of profound relationship.”

Freddie swallows down the sudden lump that’s caught in his throat. “Well, damn,” he breathes. “This wasn’t a one-off shag, was it?”

Brian gives another shake of his head and a soft “no.”

“Right, good,” Freddie breathes out the tension, “because if you had hurt Deacy, I was going to throw you off the roof.”

||

“I suppose I always found Brian attractive in an exaggerated way.”

“Exaggerated?” Roger asks.

“You know, he’s too tall, too much hair, too skinny, too smart, too talented …” John trails off and brings his hand to hover at eye level. “There’s normal levels of attractive,” he raises his hand as high as he can, “then there’s Brian’s overachiever levels of attractive.”

Roger snorts. “If anyone’s exaggerating, it’s you, mate.”

“Maybe,” John shrugs. “I’d agree with you if I had said such a thing before last night.”

“Was this planned? Neither of you showed in my room for the afterparty, and when I checked in with Fred, he said he hadn’t seen you either.”

“No, no,” John dismisses, “but I kind of hoped?” His voice goes up high like he surprised himself with the notion.

Roger’s trying to work out the logic. “Did Bri make a move?”

“Not directly,” John shifts his gaze upward, recalling the night. “I just had a feeling during the concert that I had Brian’s attention.”

“Deacs, even I couldn’t keep my eyes off you the way you were boppin’ around. Did you think you’d get paid extra dancing for the cameras?”

John grins. “_Maybe_ I was playing things up a bit for the show. The clarity of the film is supposed to be the absolute best possible.”

“God, I hope the results’ll be worth the nuisance of those cameras.”

“By the way, please don’t threaten to stab the cameraman that’s behind you in the eye with a drumstick again tonight. He’s just doing his job.”

“He was close enough to dry hump me!”

John, unsurprisingly, is not sympathetic.

“Fine, whatever. No more threats.” Roger takes a bite of his sandwich. “Get back to how you convinced our lead guitarist to take it up the arse,” he demands, mouth still full.

“Um,” John cringes at the wording, “didn’t take much convincing.”

“Really?”

John shrugs. “He came to me.”


	2. The Night Comes Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks to last night.

A knock sounds on the shared door of Brian and John’s adjoining rooms.

John can’t say he’s surprised by it. There could be a number of reasons Brian would be calling on him after a show.

Maybe he was struck by sudden inspiration and needs to share it. He’s done that before, going to whoever has the closest room. It’s a strong possibility. Really it is.

Or he might have invited someone to his room and realized he’s out of condoms. That, annoyingly, also could be a reason for the knocking.

But it’s none of that. Not tonight.

John contemplates not answering the door. He could easily say he was passed out and didn’t hear the knock if Brian were to actually call him out on it.

But he’s freshly showered, dressed in a new pair of shorts and a soft T-shirt, and warm from Canadian whisky.

He’s prepared, just nervous as hell.

Another knock sounds, this one softer. Brian’s probably second-guessing himself. Knowing that helps calm John down somewhat. They're both nervous. They both want this.

He opens the door.

||

Brian lifts his arms above and leans on the doorframe, pressing his forehead to the still-closed door.

_What the fuck am I doing?_

This sudden desire for the bassist is all so confusing. He was going to ignore it. He really was. He was going to do the usual of going to Freddie and Roger’s hotel gatherings and finding an alluring beauty to exhaust himself with to a dreamless sleep.

Then he caught John during his post-concert routine, smoking a cigarette in the dressing area while hugging his bass. Putting it away is a bit like undressing for him, and he usually doesn’t start that process until he can decompress from the adrenaline of a performance.

John looked up when Brian entered the room and his eyes never moved on to the others around them. He had a wary look, one parsing out new knowledge. Ah, so Brian hadn’t been subtle with his attention then.

John blew out a steady stream of smoke and finally broke eye contact to allow himself an exasperated huff, licking his lips and smirking. He darted his eyes back to Brian and smiled wider.

Brian knocked on the door with that smile on his mind.

The door opens to his surprise soon after his second bout of knocking. John looks at him owlishly, probably not expecting him filling up the doorway. His eyes scan the tall entirety of Brian before returning to his face. To Brian’s relief, the smile returns.

“If you’re here to nick some condoms for someone you brought back to your room, I will shut this door on your face and hope it breaks your nose.”

Brian’s thrown by the comment, worried at first that he misread the situation. Luckily, John still has that smile and a sparkle of mischief. “Uh, no,” Brian assures, “it’s just the two of us.”

“Good.”

“I am actually out of condoms though.”

John huffs in disbelief. “Unbelievable.”

Brian looks down abashedly. Not his finest moment to admit such a thing when he’s the one who knocked on the door.

“Well,” John tentatively takes hold of the bottom of Brian’s barely buttoned shirt, “I guess that means you’ll be spending the evening in my room then.” He tugs Brian out of the threshold and shuts the door.

||

“Then what?” Freddie asks.

“…We shagged?” Brian hazards a neutral answer.

“Yes, but details, darling! Who moved in for the kiss? Did you even kiss or was it right to business? Who topped? Oh, what am I even saying? It was you, Mr. I Was Completely Straight Just Yesterday.”

Brian starts studying the dessert menu thoroughly.

Freddie gasps.

||

“Then what?” Roger asks.

“Sex occurred.” John’s taking the piss.

“Right,” Roger rolls his eyes. “Disrobings took place, intercourse was experienced, orgasms were achieved. The end.” He pops a cold chip into his mouth. “I don’t think so, mate. You wanted to talk, so spill.”

John sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Before I opened that door, I thought I could treat the night like any other hookup. Then it was really him there. It was _Brian_, someone I’ve known for a whole decade. Seeing someone so familiar looking suddenly like an absolute vision in that doorway — it was hard to reconcile.”

Roger blinks. “And did the sex help reconcile it?”

John’s mouth quirks. “Turns out, I’m fond of the man.”

||

John keeps Brian in his orbit with the hand on his shirt, apparently unwilling to let go but not ready to make any other moves.

Brian takes the opportunity to get his fill of seeing John in this context. The only light in the room is one of the bedside lamps, enough when he’s this close to see the lines that have made themselves permanent on his forehead and around his eyes. Sort of comforting to realize John’s catching up to the rest of them when it comes to such things.

“Brian, what brought this on?”

“Hmm?” he eloquently intones, too distracted with studying the other man.

John tilts his head in his own study of Brian. He tugs the shirt. “This … awareness of me?”

“Deacy, I’ve always been aware you.”

John huffs. “No, dummy, be serious. You know what I’m talking about.”

“I am! I’ve cared about you for as long as we’ve known each other.”

“And you’ve wanted in my trousers all that time too?”

Brian presses his lips together. “Umm, no.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Honestly, I really have always been _aware_. It’s just tonight, I _noticed_.” Brian brings a hand up to John’s face to thumb across one of the lines around his eye. “I noticed how you’ve changed over the years.”

“And you figured out that you like those changes?” John concludes, ever perceptive.

“Very much,” Brian admits.

They stare at one another quietly for a stretch, assessing each other. John undoes the last two buttons on Brian’s shirt and skims the skin above the waistband of his pajamas. Brian moves his thumb to John’s bottom lip to trace.

They’re slowly working themselves up to the sorts of things two people can get up to in dim light that will permanently change their dynamic.

When it seems that Brian is finally going to go in for the kiss, he stops short. “John, I have a favor to ask of you.”

John flutters his eyelids in question. “Uh, yeah?”

“I want you to take control of tonight.”

All air leaves John’s body in a gasp. “You’re serious?”

Brian nods.

“You mean to let me tell you what to do in bed?”

“I trust you,” he insists. “And I’ve not done much more than a few handjobs with men. That’s just as far as my mind would let me take things.”

“That’s all?”

Brian looks down. “Umm, my sexuality has been a murky area. It’s not straight-forward,” he pauses and groans at his wording, “uh, so to speak.” He swallows. “Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“What? That you haven’t clearly defined your sexuality? No, of course not. You don’t have to have it all figured out, Brian.” John cracks a reassuring smile, making Brian reflexively give his own. “I just need you to be absolutely certain about one thing tonight.”

“What’s that?”

“You really want me? Dick and all?”

Brian snorts a laugh, easing the tension. “Yes, Deacy, I want your dick,” he says, drily. “And your smart mouth and the hair on your chest. I want the muscles in your arms. I want your wicked sense of humor. I want your dubious taste in jumpers and your calming influence.” He brings his thumb back to the other man’s lips. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to notice. But believe me when I say I want you so badly, John.”

||

“Why didn’t you tell me, darling?”

Brian pulls his lips in and gives Freddie a tiny shrug. “I haven’t really allowed myself to explore it all until recently.”

“But-”

“Oh, Fred. Don’t fuss. I was never tormented by the matter. In my 20s, I just wanted to get laid and went with the easier options, which mostly meant any girl who seemed to fancy me. But now I’m at a stage that I really want to figure out myself and what I want.”

Freddie’s expression is soft and knowing at first, giving Brian’s words the weight of acceptance. Then he smiles wickedly. “And right now, you want Deacy’s dick?”

Brian covers his face with his hands. “God, Fred, _really_?”

Freddie snickers. “No, it’s great! You’re lucky to have John; he’s a real catch. It’s just that all this time I could have introduced you to so many other people! There was Bobby Matthews, that deejay in L.A. with the pretty, big eyes. Or Jacob Holliday, the keyboard player in that one so-so band that opened for us a couple of years ago. Oh! There was Enchantress, the drag queen at the Sugar Shack who was even taller than you.”

“Only because her heels were massive!”

“Hot, right?” Freddie teases.

Brian indulges him. “Yes, she was beautiful.”

Freddie glows with being able to have this new kind of banter with his best friend.

The look causes a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Freddie. It’s not because I didn’t trust you or thought you wouldn’t understand. I know you can relate.”

Freddie’s eyes dart away, his face more plaintive. “We have different paths to take on the matter, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” Brian murmurs quietly. “But you know all about it now, so we probably should be going-”

“Oh, no, you don’t, May,” Freddie grabs Brian’s wrist with alarming strength to keep him sat. “You owe me.”

“Ohhkay, I’ll buy you another mimosa then.”

Using a simple raised eyebrow and quirk of the mouth, Freddie is able to communicate the proper “bitch, please” response. The mustache astonishingly adds extra “don’t fuck with me” vibes, Brian thinks.

“Deacy’s quite good with his tongue,” he offers.

Freddie nods his approval. “That’s an excellent start. Please continue.”

||

“I can’t say that I’m surprised about Bri.”

John waits for Roger to say more.

“He’s said some things over the years. I assumed it was his usual curiosity about anything and everything.” Roger takes a long drag of his cigarette and flicks the ashes a bit carelessly. “Hope he wasn’t hurting.”

John takes a moment to consider the notion. “I don’t think so,” he concludes. “He was very matter-of-fact when he told me. Not something he agonized over, really. Liking more than just women kind of befuddled him is all.”

“And your cock cleared some things up for him?” Roger teases.

John grabs some ice cubes from his cup and tosses them at Roger’s chest.

“Hey!” Roger yelps.

“Wanker.” He wipes his hands dry and tosses the napkin as well at Roger. “Not to _brag_, but he seemed to enjoy himself, so … maybe it did.”

Roger rolls his eyes. “_Seemed to enjoy himself_,” he mimics John’s voice annoyingly well. “If it was _my_ cock, Brian’d be completely in love and begging to marry me.”

John quickly grabs for another cigarette.

Roger’s jaw drops. “Did he declare his love for you?”

“What?! No, no,” John dismisses.

Roger studies John’s twitchiness. “Did _you_?”

John’s bloody lighter isn’t working. “Fuck,” he slams it down and weaves the unlit cig around his fingers like a pencil.

“Mate,” Roger places his hand on John’s fidgeting one, “you can tell me.”

“I didn’t say it, no,” John says slowly, “but God help me, I felt it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope the back and forth between telling what happened last night and the boys talking about it all wasn't confusing. I thought I could do without big blocks of italics or labels for the flashbacks.


	3. Guaranteed to Blow Your Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian's not exaggerating about Deacy's tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating applies to this chapter.

Despite asking John to take charge of the night’s activities, Brian bends down enough to be the one who initiates their first kiss. It’s a brush of lips though. Tentative.

John understands his hesitation. Truly, he does, and he will be completely patient and considerate with Brian.

He’s also very hungry for the other man.

John brings his hands to the back of Brian’s neck and deepens the kiss, moaning with satisfaction. Brian catches on quickly and stops holding back. He nips and licks. Sweet, breathy noises escape his mouth. John thinks he could get drunk from this kiss. He wants to drink his fill — and then drink some more.

“Brian,” he murmurs, unwilling to separate their lips but wanting to move the activities along. “Think you can carry me to the bed?”

Brian’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “You’d let me?”

John nods. “I’m not often with someone bigger than me. Want you to literally take me to bed. Want you on top. Feel the weight of you for a bit.”

Brian wastes no time once John’s explained his desires. He grabs the backs of John’s thighs as John hops up and wraps his legs around his waist. They latch lips without any hesitation this time.

Brian slowly maneuvers them toward the bed, enjoying being surrounded by John, who is kissing him thoroughly, tenderly slow.

At the bed, he lowers John down, unfortunately breaking the kiss to avoid simply plonking down on top of him. John whines cutely, opening his eyes to reorient himself and question the separation. Brian smirks at the annoyance and gives a wink before climbing up. John slides back to the head of the bed as Brian crawls toward him, arms bracketing his body as he lowers himself on top of the other man. John sighs at the first moment of contact and brings his hands up to bury in Brian’s curls and resume their kissing.

They make out like eager teens, writhing and moaning and grinding. It feels good to get things started in this fashion, kind of making up for lost time. Indulging in something that could have happened long ago when they were shy college kids sharing riff ideas on their guitars in Brian’s too-small flat on a random Friday night.

They had a lot of growing up to do to get to this point, apparently. They’ve built a friendship and astonishing career together. All things considered, it was probably for the best that sex didn’t come sooner for the two of them.

But now that they have reached this moment, John doesn’t want to waste any more precious time. He removes the open shirt from Brian’s shoulders, hoping he gets the hint that he’s ready to start getting rid of clothes. Brian brings his knees up to bracket John’s waist and get upright to completely take off the shirt, allowing John a great view of him topless, chest heaving from the simple makeout session. No wonder the man hardly bothers with buttons, John muses.

“John?”

“Huh?” is his sexy response, distracted by the impossibly long torso.

Brian teases the hem of John’s T-shirt. “Shall I?”

John blinks back into the moment. “Right, yes!” He arches his back so Brian can pull up his T-shirt and then helps shuck the shirt off the rest of the way.

Brian grins after the deed is done, apparently happy to not be the only one shirtless. He raises an eyebrow in question.

Oh, right, John is meant to be directing things. “Bottoms. Off. Now.” Yeah, John would make a great dominant if he were more into that scene.

Brian huffs at the command. “Yes, sir,” he indulges. He hooks both thumbs in his waistband and easily slides the material downward. He flops back to get his legs free enough to complete the task.

John’s first ridiculous thought seeing a completely naked Brian is, _Shit, Freddie wasn’t lying to the audience about Brian’s big cock_.

Brian, the patient soul he is, allows John to keep looking. He bashfully looks to the side though.

“Do you mind helping me with my shorts as well?” John asks, getting the man’s attention back.

“Seems like a terribly difficult task,” Brian snarks. “Definitely requires my capable hands.”

Before John can retort, Brian places those “capable” hands on his ankles and slowly slides upward, raising hairs and goosebumps along the way. They are nice hands, John must admit.

Instead of reaching for the waistband, Brian grabs the hemmed material and simply pulls the shorts down that way, exposing John quicker than he expected. He gasps from surprise but doesn’t recoil from the sudden exposure. Instead, he gives Brian the same courtesy of allowing his fill of looking.

Brian has that look he gets when he’s gazing at the stars, a giddy wonder that makes John blush. “I’m not so fascinating, Bri.”

Brian's eyes turn determined at that. He practically stalks back over John, running his beautiful hands over his thighs again, skimming his half-hard cock, up his stomach and chest, and around his shoulders so he can clutch John completely against his body as he settles back down and crushes their lips together.

John swoons at the attention, the delicious slide of their naked bodies, their cocks hard and grinding against each other. Brian cocoons him with his long arms around his upper back and his even longer legs twining with his.

John realizes this most basic foreplay is an essential part of Brian’s exploration. He jumped right into it too, embracing John like he doesn’t ever intend on letting go. Feeling the writhing weight on top of him, hearing the unrestrained moans, drowning in the sensory overload, John can finally believe that Brian won’t suddenly think this is all a mistake and abandon him.

Brian buries his face in his neck and gives an especially deep groan, practically a growl, and John almost comes then and there. It shakes him out of his reverie. “Bri-Brian, oh, um, I want to switch positions.”

Brian slows his movements and follows the request without discussion, rolling onto his back with John on top.

John playfully bites his chin and nibbles and kisses along the column of his neck in reward for his restraint and compliance. “Fuck, Brian, that was exactly why I wanted you on top. You felt so good.”

Brian preens a bit at the praise, turning his head to expose even more of himself for John’s exploring mouth. “Kind of got carried away, I think.” He brings a hand between their bodies and grasps John’s cock to more exactly align with his, not quite jerking them off but holding them together. “Didn’t realize how feeling your cock along mine would set me off so strongly.”

John keens from the words and the teasing motions of Brian’s hand.

“You sound so precious, Deacy. Sweet as my guitar.”

John plants his face in Brian’s chest to hide his blush. “Ugh, quit using cheesy musicians’ lines on me,” he complains then quickly whimpers when Brian gives a retaliatory twist of his hand.

“I was being genuine, you prat.”

“Ah, _there’s_ the Brian I know.”

Brian removes his hand to tweak a nipple, making John yip and swat his hand away.

“Keep your hands to yourself for now,” John commands and looks down at Brian’s cock with determination. “How’s your recovery time?”

“Depends on how good the first orgasm is.”

“And if I fully wreck you with my mouth?”

Brian huffs. “Confident, are we?”

“You doubting my talents, May?”

“Never,” Brian says seriously, ensuring John understands the wider implications. John shifts his eyes away and swallows hard. Brian clears his throat. “Which is, uh, why I can’t exactly boast about being able to go again too quickly after.”

John looks back at him with a crooked smile. “Oh, that’s all right. I can be patient if it means I can have you on my cock.” Brian shudders and John leans down to speak low into his ear. “Would you want that? Can we try?”

Brian’s breathing picks up suddenly, the gears turning in his head, considering John’s request, picturing it. “Uh, yeah,” he says, barely a whisper.

“Brian, please say it,” John patiently demands. “Tell me what you want, lo-.” He catches himself almost saying the pet name. He swallows the rest of the word, holds it inside with his breath, waiting for Brian to fully answer.

Brian bumps John’s nose when turning quickly to meet his eyes. “Yes, Deacy. I want you in me. I want to try.”

John captures his mouth the moment he confirms Brian’s desires. “I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs and indulges in the kiss for a heady minute more.

He pulls away eventually, pleased that Brian tries to follow his lips. “Don’t forget the whole ‘wrecking you’ part of tonight. Unless you want to skip the oral portion.”

“Oh, right. Please, absolutely _don’t_ suck me off,” Brian retorts, dry as the desert. “I’m just too eager for your prick to wait any longer.”

“As you should be,” John nods.

“Oh my God!” Brian covers his face with his hands, unable to hold back his amusement at having first-hand knowledge that John Deacon is just as much of a sassy bastard in bed as he is everywhere else. “Get on with it before I change my mind.”

Brian’s not serious, John knows, but the words twinge as they echo his earlier worries. “Can’t have that happening, can we?” he asks rhetorically as he moves down between Brian’s legs. He loosely holds his cock. “I know this isn’t the first time you’ve been blown, so don’t misinterpret what I’m about to ask of you as patronizing. Just remember what I said about keeping your hands to yourself. If you need to grab hold of something, use the headboard. And do your best to keep your hips down.”

Brian frowns in concern. “Deacy, do you think I’d force you to keep going if you didn’t want to?”

“Huh?” John’s confused until he replays what he’d just said. “Oh, no! No, absolutely not, Brian. I would never think you’d do that. Umm,” he glances at the cock in his hand, still toying with it, “I just want to make sure I have an unobstructed view of your reactions. It’s, uh, the hottest part of all this, seeing how good I can make you feel.”

Brian’s mouth opens in a silent “oh.” He nods in understanding and raises his arms above to grip the headboard as instructed.

John smiles wide. “Good boy.”

Brian was smart to go ahead with grabbing onto something because the moment he feels John start to lick from base to tip, his body reacts like it experienced an electrical shock. He also sees John’s point about keeping his arms out of the way because Brian is getting a glorious view of John’s tongue at work.

Steady, long swipes eventually turn into swirls around the head. Brian whines, the licks a sweet torture he is genuinely enjoying instead of frustratingly enduring like he might normally expect. When John’s done with the teasing, he looks up to make eye contact while keeping his mouth wide and flattening his tongue to give Brian a little show of the tip of his cock rubbed across the tongue a few times. He’s so caught up in the feel and sight that John completely surprises him by closing his mouth over the head and sucking hard.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans and tosses his head back suddenly. He remembers to keep his hips down as John requested, but he can’t keep from arching his back while John continues to simply suck the life out of him. Eventually, he has mercy and starts to sink his mouth down, slowly making Brian feel how his tongue is securely pressed up against the underside of his cock. The pressure and the heat build until he’s reached the back of John’s throat, then he pulls up the tiniest fraction and goes immediately back down. He starts with a slow rhythm (curse that bass player’s instinct), a gentle pull and slide of his cock with a satisfying bump of the tip to the back of John’s throat. Over and over, steady for minutes, and Brian moans and gasps and thinks he might die. John wasn’t joking about wrecking him.

Like one of their grand, epic songs, the rhythm builds before Brian even realizes, and it’s so damn _good_ (praise that bass player’s instinct). Brian’s so worked up that he doesn’t quite register the exploring fingers brushing his balls until there’s a slight tug, causing him to yelp. He feels a vibration and sees a sparkle in John’s eyes telling him that the man is laughing and thoroughly entertained by Brian’s reaction.

Brian would give an exasperated huff at John’s antics if he’d let him catch his breath. The rhythm is fast and strong now, and those exploring fingers move to his perineum and press _just_ right. Brian’s breath starts to really stutter. “John, uh, oh God. I _can’t_-, uh, I gotta-” And that’s all the warning he can give before he’s coming with a force he never thought possible.

John’s quick to react, making sure he’s pulled back to keep the head in his mouth while working Brian with his hand. He focuses on memorizing every facet of Brian’s orgasm. The white-knuckle grip he has on the headboard, the curls in his face from pressing his head deeply in the pillow, his beautifully arched back, the musical moans. John runs soothing hands on the shaking legs next to him as he pulls off the soft cock. He waits patiently for Brian to fully look at him again.

When he does, it’s a look of complete awe. Brian opens and shuts his mouth, struggling to get words to work again. He eventually manages a breathless “Deacy” and supposes that’ll have to do for now. John, despite having just confidently sucked him off, gives a shy smile in response.

They’re hopeless, the both of them.


	4. Get Down, Make Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's quite good with his fingers too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating applies to this chapter.

Brian grabs John’s hand to pull him up over his body and crushes their lips together. He licks and sucks, reveling in the twisted thrill of tasting himself. Mostly though, he’s feeling things for John that he needs to express with passion. Words would be premature.

Brian reaches for John’s cock, but his hand is batted away again.

“Uh-uh,” John chastises. “What’d I say? Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Still?” he practically whines.

John nods. “I can’t risk coming before you’re ready to take me.”

Brian can’t resist teasing him. “Hmm, so ‘Misfire’ was autobiographical, yeah?”

John’s jaw drops in outrage. “You ass!” He grabs a pillow and bats him with little force. “Fuck you, May! Or better yet, go fuck _yourself_. I don’t think I want to anymore.” He flops his naked bum on the foot of the bed and crosses his arms like a child denied a promised toy.

Brian snorts and chuckles at the sight. “Oh, so you’re really not going to fuck me?”

“Absolutely not.”

Brian nods his head solemnly like he really believes that. “Just going to let that hard cock go to waste?”

“I’m not 70, Brian. Erections aren’t in short supply for me.”

Brian rolls his eyes. “Let’s hope not.” He smiles wickedly at John, canines on full display and eyes fully locked, as he stretches out entirely. He rolls slowly onto his stomach resting on his elbows and looking coyly back. He bats his eyelashes a few times before turning his lids heavy and heated. “I’m sorry I teased, John,” he practically purrs, not meaning a word.

Of course, John’s not really upset, the tiny smile tugging at his mouth giving the game away. It’s evidence that disappears when he licks his lips at the sight of Brian on display for him. He clears his throat, “I _suppose_ I could forgive you.” He skims his hands from ankle upward along his leg.

“How gracious,” deadpan and throaty, the touch already affecting him.

John’s fingertips trail the rift of his ass and trace his spine. “However, I am tempted to make you go beg for condoms from Rog in retaliation.”

Brian groans. “Are you ever going to let that go? That’s only ever happened maybe twice.”

“Two times too many.” He reaches for his vanity bag and pulls out a box and a bottle. Brian’s eyes show some trepidation. “Do you still want this, Bri?”

Brian takes a deep breath. “I really do,” he says in a steady voice.

“I’ll go slow.” John slicks up his fingers. “You know, I quite enjoy this part as well.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s a bit of an accomplishment building up pleasure in a person when it’s pretty much a universal fact that the first moment a finger or cock goes up there, it’s odd as hell.”

Brian’s breathing stutters as John puts steady, circular pressure on his hole. “I, uh, I’ve experimented some before.”

John smiles, pleased. “So, you know I’m telling the truth?”

He nods and swallows, enjoying the touch.

“And you know that it gets a lot better with some patience, right?”

“Ye-yeah, it’s good. It’s been good before.” Brian looks John in the eyes. “I know you can make it amazing though.”

A moan catches in John’s throat, leaving him breathless for a moment. He could easily respond with cocky assurance, more bravado, but Brian’s sincerity deserves a sincere response. “I’ll try, I really will.” With that, he finally breaches the ring slow and steady up to his knuckle.

Brian gasps sharply.

John pets his back as he gradually pushes the finger the rest of the way in. He wiggles his finger in a circular motion, just as much as Brian’s body will allow at the moment. He lies down next to Brian so they can face each other directly, still moving his finger, working up to almost fully withdrawing and pushing it back in. John kisses Brian as distraction, Brian’s hand cups his face and controls the kiss while John controls his finger’s movements.

“You can use two,” Brian eventually murmurs.

John removes his finger and adds more lube and remains lying next to Brian when he reaches to slide two fingers into him. He goes slow and steady but doesn’t stop until he’s all the way inside.

Brian’s face screws up in concentration, making note of everything he’s feeling from the intrusion. Seeing John’s caring face helps and even adds to the curious pleasure Brian’s experiencing.

John takes his time like he promised. In and out, gentle but sure. When he’s satisfied that Brian’s relaxed enough, he pulls out completely and lifts Brian’s leg to rest across him so he can reach under and finger Brian at an easier angle. He enters him again but crooks his fingers to explore for his prostate.

“Oh, Christ, John!” Brian buries his face in his neck, and, yup, there it is.

John massages the area, strokes Brian’s sweaty back, and coos at the man, expressing how honestly gorgeous John thinks he is. “You’re doing great, Bri. So damn beautiful, driving me mad.”

Brian moans and whimpers, “There, yes, so good,” then he can’t resist grinding his cock on John’s hip.

John tries to anchor him away from the temptation. “Hold back for me, okay? You gotta take me first,” he drawls.

Brian whines, “Please?”

“One more finger, all right? It’ll be so much better when you’re really ready.”

“You’re just torturing me, is what I think,” Brian complains.

John laughs. “Trust me, I’m the one being tortured. You’ve come once already and I haven’t. So selfish.” The banter distracts from the three fingers he’s now using, not focusing on the prostate so much anymore but stretching Brian efficiently.

“Your fault,” Brian groans, “wanted to touch you.” He fucks himself back on the fingers more confidently to reassure John that he’s ready.

“You wanted me to run the show tonight, right? So, stop complaining.” He swats his bum lightly.

Brian’s eyes turn challenging, and he defiantly brings his hand to lightly tease John’s achingly hard cock. “Come on, John. Can’t wait much longer to know how you feel inside me.”

John takes in a few calming breaths, then kisses Brian dirty, tongue and teeth. “You’re gonna be the end of me, I swear.”

Brian smiles serenely in victory.

John withdraws his fingers and grabs for the bottle and condom to hand to Brian. “Do the honors, Mr. May.”

Brian’s unrestrained delight at getting to prepare John makes his heart pound with affection and some nerves.

Brian makes a slow show of everything. He gently takes a corner of the condom wrapper between his teeth and carefully tears it open. He rolls the rubber over John in a too-tight grip, giggling at John’s agony. He squeezes a generous amount of lube into his hand and slicks up his cock thoroughly, looking at John’s eyes the entire time.

“Think we’re ready,” Brian softly announces. The wording makes John smile. 

“What position do you want to try?”

“I’d like to see your face …” Brian trails off.

John gives a small smile at the sentiment. “But face-to-face isn’t an easy position the first time,” he finishes the sentence.

Brian nods.

John ponders a solution. “You seem twisty,” he determines.

“Excuse me?”

John guides him onto his side and gets behind him, then turns Brian’s shoulder toward him. “See? Twisty.”

Brian turns his upper body even more to look at John better. “You’re ridiculous,” he says fondly, “but I’ll admit, this is good.” He brings John’s face down for a tender kiss. “Now, can we please get started, Mr. Deacon?”

John rests on his elbow and guides his cock to Brian’s entrance. He presses his fingers back in using a careful corkscrew motion for insurance.

Brian squeaks from surprise. “Jesus, man, get on with it,” he demands.

“Yeah, yeah, so impatient,” but he wastes no more time, switching out his fingers immediately for the head of his cock.

Brian groans instantly. “Don’t you dare stop,” letting John know he feels good enough for him to continue without staggering too much as he pushes in.

John strains to keep pushing slowly, breathing deeply to maintain control. Before he knows it, he’s pressed completely to Brian, snug and so impossibly close to him.

Brian gasps and struggles to get his own breathing more regular. John pets his bottom and side, focusing on Brian’s comfort and allowing him to adjust.

John nips on an ear lobe. “Talk to me? Tell me how it feels.”

“God, it’s a lot,” he whines a little when he shifts his hips, hazel eyes getting very glassy.

“Not moving until you say so, I promise.”

Brian nods his understanding. “Deacy, kiss me.”

John complies without delay, diving his tongue to meet Brian’s, wanting to be connected with him in every way possible. Their bodies form an infinity loop for the comfort and pleasure to course through.

Eventually, Brian grips John’s hip and squeezes to get his attention.

John breaks the kiss, panting against the mouth. “Yeah?”

“Go on,” Brian simply breathes out.

John slowly pulls halfway out and back in. Then he does it again, a repetitive roll of his hips.

A whoosh of air and soft “oh”s escape Brian after almost every slight thrust.

When John sees the look of concentration on Brian’s face slacken, he pulls out more and starts to fuck faster. By now, he’s not able to hold back moans and babbling from the pleasure. “So good, Brian, you’re incredible. Fuck, don’t wanna ever stop.”

Brian’s uncharacteristically inarticulate, just managing a string of curses and “yes, John, right there” and demands to be fucked harder.

John slips his arm under Brian to hug him to his body while he grips his hip securely to angle his thrust just right. “Touch yourself,” he demands. “Come for me, I wanna see it, Brian. Take me over with you.”

Brian wraps his hands around his prick and pulls fast. It’s not many strokes at all before his entire body tenses and he’s screaming John’s name.

The absolute ecstasy on Brian’s face and the impossibly tight squeeze on his dick has John moaning loud and long into Brian’s neck as his orgasm takes him finally. Holding off for so long has John twitching and grinding convulsively against the man, hugging him probably too tightly but unable to come down from the pleasure enough to loosen up.

Brian isn’t coming down much faster either, reveling in John’s embrace, holding the arm around his chest and murmuring John’s name some more.

When John is finally more aware of his surroundings, he kisses up the column of Brian’s throat and turns his head to reach for his lips.

Brian sighs and passionately responds. They kiss through the discomfort of John pulling out, and then kiss through John’s funny attempt at multitasking by tying the condom off while kissing. Brian rolls completely onto his back and John gets on top. They kiss some more with Brian lifting his legs to wrap around John, mimicking what it might have been like if John had fucked him in that position.

Dopey smiles take over their faces as their kisses grow sloppy from fatigue, and emotions start to rise with the burning afterglow.

“Stay with me?” John requests, mostly meaning Brian should fall asleep with him, but finding that the words might imply something more.

Brian nods energetically, his happy smile a beacon in the dim light.


	5. Las Palabras de Amor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roger and Freddie put up with so much.

John and Brian keep as much distance as possible in the afternoon for the press meet-and-greets, meaning there are _a lot_ of lingering glances. The ridiculous behavior and the agony of answering preposterous questions (“What’s everyone’s favorite flower?”) exasperate Freddie and Roger to their limits.

(“Freddie,” Roger whines, “they’re eye-fucking again.”

The lead singer sighs and ponders the possibility of a solo album more seriously.)

Before they know it, the time for Queen’s second show in Montreal arrives.

Their communal dressing area is in full prep mode, the already frenetic energy compounded by the return of the cameras and the film director’s vain attempts to control the look and pacing of the show.

Freddie’s having none of it. “Fuck you, darling. I’ll wear what I want!” He pulls out a pair of tiny white shorts — to the director’s horror.

John’s the most agreeable out of the four band members, entering the room wearing his all-blue outfit yet again. He goes straight to Brian, who isn’t really opposed to wearing his shirt and vest again but has a lovely tunic he’d like to wear at some point during the show.

“John,” Brian acknowledges with more heat in his voice and eyes than he should with a roomful of people. The blue just looks so damn good on John.

John gives a secret, knowing smile. “Think we can talk after the show?”

Brian sucks in a nervous breath. He doesn’t think he has his head organized quite enough to talk yet. He nods in agreement though.

John gives a friendly shoulder squeeze as he walks off toward Freddie.

||

Freddie’s eyes take on a wicked glint the moment he notices John’s approach. “Deacy, you stud!”

_Oh, God, that’s right. He knows._ “Freddie, behave,” John chastises as he looks at their surroundings to check if anyone’s paying attention to them. Luckily, they’re all busy with their jobs and know to leave the band members to themselves during this time.

“Me, behave? Never. From what I heard, I might need to fight for our lead guitarist’s affections. Suppose I can do some more grinding against his leg during the show,” he muses.

“Oh my God, Freddie!” That gets John to loosen up with a laugh. “I don’t even know how the man can concentrate when you do that. I barely can keep going with the few moments you hover around me.”

“Are you feeling left out? Again, from what I heard, I think I wouldn’t mind giving you a bit more attention.” He gives an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle.

John blushes. “Apparently, you heard quite a lot.”

“Oh, don’t worry, darling. He didn’t give the details without a fair bit of embarrassment and whining. It was just me he needed a chat with. He’s not going to tell your secrets to just anyone.”

“I know,” John nods. “I trust him.”

Freddie reaches out and squeezes his hand for a brief moment. “I’m glad you know you can.” Freddie waits for John to say something else, but the man’s tongue seems to be stricken. He leads the conversation where he thinks it needs to go then. “He trusts you too, you know? It took a lot of trust for him to go to you like that.”

“Well, he was horny,” John dismisses.

“You know it was more than that,” Freddie admonishes. “He loves you, John.”

John swallows hard. “Yes, we’re a family. We all love and care for each other, I know-”

“And he fancies you,” Freddie interrupts.

“Wh-what?”

“It’s sweet, he’s totally head-over-heels and lovelorn. I’ll admit, I’m a bit jealous that you’ve found that in each other.”

John’s mouth opens wide in shock and denial. “No, I don’t-, uh, it was just a shag.”

Freddie’s forced to unleash his patented “bitch, please” face yet again.

John wises up quickly. “Um, okay, so I think I fancy him quite a bit too.”

Freddie hums his approval. “That’s the right response, dear.”

“What do I do?”

“Tell him as soon as possible, because I guarantee that he’s second-guessing all his life choices at the moment and thinking he ruined everything in the band and your friendship and the Earth’s orbit by falling for you.”

John frowns. “Is it that serious?”

“It’s _Brian_, darling. You know how he puts himself down terribly sometimes. So, of course, he assumes that you can’t possibly feel the same for him.”

John’s known the guitarist long enough to realize that Freddie’s right. “Oh, no.”

||

Brian decides to get some fresh air before they have to get on stage. There’s a private terrace for VIP performers and their guests to mingle, but since it’s November in Canada, it’s cold as hell and hasn’t been in use for them.

He sees a familiar blond leaning against the ledge.

“Rog, you been out here long?”

The drummer blows a stream of smoke that’s particularly voluminous because of the chill. “Nah, just started this one,” referring to his cigarette, “and I jumped out here without a coat, so I don’t plan on being long.” He looks up at the sky. “Think it’ll snow soon.”

“It being Canada, that’s a 95 percent certainty.”

“It’s been a good time back. Something special about it.”

Brian nods. “Yeah, last night was great.”

Roger gives Brian a wicked smile. “Gonna be a memorable one for you for more than the show, I bet.”

For a blissful second, Brian is confused about what Roger is referring to. A very brief second though. “Fuck,” the horror of realization dawns on Brian’s face. He tries to immediately duck back inside.

“Wait, wait! Bri, don’t go.” Roger sprints to grab his friend’s arm. “I’ll be good, I swear.”

Brian squints in skepticism.

“I wouldn’t joke about this,” Roger promises.

Brian squints harder.

“Not much, anyway. Not more than it deserves.”

“Rog-”

“I’m proud of you, Brian,” he interrupts.

Brian frowns with confusion. “Why?”

“You hold back and deny so much for yourself because you think it’ll make everyone else’s lives easier. You quit your doctoral studies for the band. You internalize your pain from your family’s lack of acceptance for your music career.”

Brian crosses his arms to protect himself from <strike>his emotions</strike> the cold.

“This … thing with Deacy,” Roger continues, “figuring out yourself and your desires, it’s been a long time coming. For both of you, I think. I’m happy for you.”

“There is no ‘thing’ with Deacy.”

Roger blinks. “What?”

“It was just a one-off; he was indulging a friend.”

Roger scoffs. “Are you serious?”

“Of course,” Brian looks gutted. “He’s a good mate, always has been. But he wouldn’t want to put up with me beyond that. The way we row sometimes.”

Roger can’t believe his very cold ears. “We _all_ row. Shit, I sprayed you in the face with hairspray once.”

“True,” Brian acknowledges. “There was also that time you punched me.”

“You started that one.”

Brian rolls his eyes.

“I forgave you though.”

Brian rolls his eyes even harder.

“Anyway, the point is that you and I don’t hold grudges, despite how over-the-top our arguments have been. Whatever you and Deacy have fought about certainly doesn’t compare. And it definitely shouldn’t be enough to keep you from exploring something deep and meaningful between you two.”

Brian drops his arms, feeling flushed suddenly, Roger’s words igniting a fire inside. “We could be good, yeah? Really special, I think.”

Roger smiles reassuringly. “You two disasters were made for each other.”

Brian huffs, “Thanks for the encouragement.” He smiles brightly then. “Truly, Rog, thank you.”

“No problem. See? Told you, I’d be good.” Roger brings a guiding hand to Brian’s back. “Now, let’s get back inside. Can’t have you freezing your arse off with Deacy so heavily invested in it now.”

Brian smacks the drummer’s head hard.

||

The show is electric.

Freddie’s vocals and energy are top-notch. Roger’s timpani solo is even grander the second night. John bops about even more and serves looks that Brian, of course, can’t help but notice. And Brian’s performance was wrought with emotion and more flair than usual.

Despite feeling like a nuisance, the cameras end up being a great investment. This was definitely a stop in their tour — hell, in their _career_ — that deserves to be recorded for posterity.

Brian thinks Montreal will always hold a special place in his heart. It’s a fleeting thought, however, as John currently has him backed against a pile of chairs in a storage room snogging the life out of him.

Immediately after they’d taken their bows and disappeared off stage, John grabbed his hand and said that their talk had to happen now.

Except they really haven’t been doing much talking. They’re making out. There’s really no other description for it. Lips and tongue and groping. The high from the show feeding the newfound hunger they have for each other.

Brian reaches for John’s zip, but the bassist’s hand stops him. “Uh, we really do need to talk,” John says, almost apologetically.

Brian blinks. “Really? I kind of thought that was code when you immediately attacked my mouth.”

John looks sheepish. “Uh, yeah, got kind of ahead of myself.”

“What do you want to say?” Brian prompts, wanting to rip off the bandage if John’s letting him down.

John looks deep into his eyes. He notices for the first time how the guitarist has changed over the years, just as Brian noticed changes in him. The bags under Brian’s eyes don’t quite ever disappear now. John finds that they somehow add to his beauty, evidence of the dedicated, hard-working man he is.

Bloody hell, John’s a total goner for him. “I like you, Brian. As more than a bandmate or friend. I, um, quite adore you, in fact.”

Brian’s eyes widen.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren’t worthy of my affection beyond a night in bed. That might have been me trying to protect myself.”

Brian nods in understanding. “I’m sorry too if you felt like I was using you. I would never,” he cradles John’s face in his hands, “because I adore you too, Deacy. I want to show you every day how much you mean to me.”

John smiles big with relief and tries to attack Brian’s mouth once again when there’s a knock on the door.

“Have you two finished declaring your undying love and devotion to each other yet?” Roger asks.

“Really, how long does it take?” Freddie complains. “The crew are already finished packing up everything.”

John groans at the interruption and settles for a quick peck to Brian’s lips before opening the door. “You two would be dead men if we didn’t need you to finish the tour.”

“Oh, _please_, kill us now,” Roger retorts. “Save us from all the sappy romantic shit we’ll have to endure between you two.”

“Yes, I feel a bit left out,” Freddie pouts. “Rog, you want to start up a love affair?”

“Fred, I thought you’d never ask.” Roger spins their lead singer into his arms. “We’ll show Brian and John how it’s done. Unfortunately, they’ve fucked already and are ahead of the game. Oh, let’s get married!”

Freddie pretends to seriously ponder the “proposal.” “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you. Vegas is an upcoming stop, conveniently.”

“An Elvis impersonator will, of course, officiate the ceremony. Nothing but the best for you, baby,” Roger winks.

Brian sighs. “You two are ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love, you mean,” Freddie corrects.

John laughs despite himself. “Okay, lovebirds. Let’s get going, and you can tell us about the honeymoon.” He grabs Brian’s hand and leads his bandmates out of the Forum.

They’re ready to conquer the next stop on tour, but with old bonds renewed, a budding romance, and high-speed concert footage, the members of Queen are sure to never forget the city of Montreal.

(“Freddie, expect four orgasms on our honeymoon,” Roger announces. “I can’t have Deacy being the better lover in Queen.”)

-end-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for keeping up with this one and for the kind comments. Made my week a little brighter :)


End file.
